Novel & Cerita Amish Romance

Because no matter how many times he tried telling himself he was a better man without Damien, his heart wouldn't receive the memo. It hurt him — like a phantom limb, as if part of him had been severed and left raw and bleeding. And deep down, Asher knew it would never actually heal. --- He pushed the door to the bookstore open with a jingle and was at once assaulted by the warm, comforting smell of old paper and coffee. "Hey, Ash," called Mia from behind the counter, waving. "Hey," Asher said, attempting a smile. Mia was pleasant — a college student with a bright personality and an unabashed romantic when it came to reading romance.

“I was thinking about the ceremony too. I thought we’d each start in from opposite sides of the chapel to the wedding march. When we meet in the middle, the music will change to ‘It’s Raining Men,’ and we’ll dance together up to the minister.” “Adam. Could you be any more gay? Seriously? You’re expecting us to dance down the aisle at our wedding?” “You think it’s too much?” I asked. “That we should save the dancing for after we’re married, when we head back down the aisle? I was thinking of ‘Besame Mucho,’ and we could do a tango out of the chapel together.” “Please don’t go all groomzilla on me, mi amor,” Javier said. “We’re going to get married. Isn’t that enough?”

Around them, Cassian, Rowan, and Silas climbed onto the bed, curling protectively around them both (four bodies becoming a single tangle of limbs and warmth). Outside, dawn crept pale fingers across the sea. Asher pressed his lips to the bite mark on her throat (the first one he had ever given her) and spoke the words that ended the five nights and began everything else. “No more auctions. No more games. You are home.” Amara closed her eyes, body wrecked, heart finally, perfectly full. And in the quiet aftermath of the storm, claimed beyond any hope of rescue, she slept.

she whispered. He reached out hesitantly. “Can I?” he asked. She nodded. His arms wrapped around her like a shield. She buried her face in his chest, letting herself breathe for the first time in days. --- The day slipped away in a haze. They didn’t talk about contracts or pretense—just stayed close. Fingers brushed. Smiles softened. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. By evening, Damien took her hand. “Come with me.” “Where?”

ERICA “My handsome Duke!!” Ami stood up, waving on her two feet that were encased in heels and stumbled her way to Raphael, who looked only a little bit amused but his blue eyes darkened as they raked down his wife. She was wearing a red sequin dress that ended just below her arse and by the look on Raphael’s face, I’d say Ami will finally get what she was wishing for. “See, what I did? Are you going to punish me for it!” She asked, blinking her eyes at him as she stumbled and he caught her in his arms.

My back hit the counter, and the spatula clattered uselessly into the sink. “Mav—” My protest dissolved as he deepened the kiss, his hand braced on the counter beside me while the other skimmed down my side, slipping beneath the loose hem of my pajama top. My skin burned where his fingers brushed. “You taste better than breakfast,” he murmured against my mouth, and before I could even process the line, his hand was sliding lower, teasing the waistband of my pajama bottoms. My whole body went still. “Wait, what are you—”

Alois Devaraux, the first Emperor of Heaven who is known for his excellency in crafting weapons, set his own foot on the land of mortals to bring peace and execute the wolves using his very own hands. Meanwhile, in a far away mountain located in the land of mortals home a woman who fell in love with a wolf, Callista Cournellier. Upon searching for a Comfrey amidst the forest, she stumbled upon a man whom she thought of as a hunter, Louis Valentine. Their meetings did not end in this and they eventually got married. The woman soon bore a child in her womb. The gender is still unknown but a decision has been made to call the baby Anastasia if it’s a female, or Gavin if it is of the opposite ge

“Why?” Joanna turned around in the woodened chair to face Courtney. “A few months into Rumspringa, a boy – an Amish boy, who was a few months into it, got close. A few months had turned into eighteen months. We were in love – or so I thought. Henry, that was his name, wanted to marry me, but he also wanted to live in the English world. I . . . I loved him so much that I had said that I would leave the community for him.” “Sooo, if it wasn’t for him you would have been baptized and stayed in Ohio?”

“But I trust you. And I trust your instincts. I’m just asking you not to rush. Don’t let the desire to feel loved again blind you to the red flags you haven’t even noticed yet.” June was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “You’ll like him once you meet him. He’s really sweet. Loving. Gentle.” “And has he met your scars?” Amara asked. June blinked. “Has he seen you at your worst? Has he held you when the night trembles with the echoes of Larry’s betrayal? Because loving someone isn’t about dinner dates and flowers, June. It’s about staying when things aren’t beautiful.” June swallowed hard. “I think he would.”

She looked at the camera with the loving gaze he knew so well, smiling as she said, “Victor, this is the fifth anniversary present I prepared for you and the family. I put all my energy into this game, in the hopes that it could provide the last push you need to officially take over the family.” The last frame paused on her smile, full of anticipation. She had ended the email with one last sentence. “Victor, if this marriage was a sham from the start, then I’ll give both of us the release we truly want.” Her loving expression in the video, the cold farewell in the email, Summer’s mocking laughter in the recording, and the painfully clear words in the medical report… All of it formed the absu